


Delta's Dawn

by distractionpie



Category: Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando (Video Games)
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Nap piles, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Star Wars AU - Soft Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:09:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29285073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distractionpie/pseuds/distractionpie
Summary: Sev is handling life on Concord Dawn, but he could do without his nuisance squadmates.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39
Collections: Open Source Soft Wars





	Delta's Dawn

The Concord Dawn sun is high overhead, but Sev has three shadows.

He hasn’t had fewer than two since the moment he touched down.

Boss being protective isn’t such a surprise, he always did have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility; but having the whole of Delta on his ass — like Sev is some mass produced standard who can’t function on his own — sticks in Sev’s teeth worse than even years old salvaged ration bars.

He’s a karking commando, he’s handled countless solo tasks and only one ever went to hell, and he’s back from that now so there’s no reason for his squad to hover.

The walk back to the cabin he’s been bunking in follows a wide path, the trees cut back leaving a strip of bright sunlight with dappled edges. There’s not enough greenery for good cover, but Fixer is making the best of it.

Scorch might not even be trying.

He was never a natural at stealth, so Sev can’t be sure, but he certainly hopes that the Delta’s didn’t get sloppy enough in his absence that Scorch actually thinks walking a few meters back while humming to himself isn’t going to draw Sev’s attention or that dive rolling behind trees whenever Sev looks his way is effective concealment.

“Get over here.”

There’s no move from the greenery he last clocked Fixer in, but Scorch bounds out from behind a tree with a grin and a, “Oh, hi Sev. Looking for some company?”

Sev glares. He doesn’t particularly want to walk with Scorch, but being side by side with him would be marginally less aggravating than him goofing around on the periphery. And the absence of a no is enough for Scorch to fall into step and start detailing all the things he’d been up to since they last talked.

Mostly making a nuisance of himself to the standards, though Sev isn’t sure how he’d found time to bother so many people while also keeping watch on Sev, even if he did have a few hours of there being even fewer than usual reasons for the Deltas to keep up a guard while Sev sat through a meeting with some of the clones who are trying to establish this place as a community not just a camp and wanted to talk with him about establishing ties with Kashyyyk (they’d treated Sev well and would probably strike fair deals with the vode, but Sev’s no ambassador to figure out how to make it work).

“—Oh! Fixer says I should tell you about the rotations with the cadets—”

It’s official, Scorch isn’t even trying for stealth. That’s objectively better than him having picked up more defects in Sev’s absence, but not by much.

“—they’re no baby wookiees, but they’re cute enough and all tibanna and tiingilar - even your face couldn’t scare them off.”

“Is Boss on comms too?”

“Not live, but we’ve got hourly check-ins.” Scorch doesn’t have an ounce of shame. “And an emergency all hands alert system.”

“And what exactly constitutes an emergency?” 

“Sustained loss of contact. It was any loss of contact at first, but Boss said you ought to be allowed to use the fresher in peace and Fixer agreed he didn’t want to see that.”

“But not you?” 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Scorch points out, as if there were no difference between field camp necessities and their current setup.

What do they even think is going to happen here? The whole planet is controlled by brothers, there’s no way on or off without approval, and their so-called Vod’alor is strict about who gets those passes. Even Sev, with some of the highest level codes a clone could get (even if they were outdated), hadn’t been able to land until he’d pulled his bucket off, and it had taken a DNA swab to confirm his face was the one he was born with not the product of surgery before he was given freedom to move around. The biggest danger here is the landscape, and if any of the Deltas want to suggest that’s beyond Sev’s ability to handle then Concord Dawn is going to find itself down three commandos.

“I take it you’re not impressed by our new Vod’alor,” he concludes, “If you’re keeping tighter guard at home than you did in enemy territory.”

“We got more careful, after,” Scorch says, too flat. “At least when they let Boss call his own shots. Being a three man squad sucked, but two wouldn’t even be a squad anymore. We’d have to be split up and folded into other units.”

Not even Deltas anymore. It’s an unsettling thought. But that doesn’t mean Sev is going to indulge their nonsense.

There’s finally at the cabin, Scorch following him in without invitation. But Sev’s got eyes on his bunk. He’d been sleeping in short shifts for too long to easily adapt to the fact most of Concord Dawn’s inhabitants followed its solar cycle rather than resting an hour at a time before needing to check their perimeter. He’s going to get some shut-eye, and bunking down should be enough for even Scorch to get the hint.

It’s a matter of moments to strip his gear down enough to be able to rest semi-comfortably with minimal compromise to his defence. Sev’s seen plenty of the standards walking around in no armour at all, but there’s no accounting for how thin the brains got spread in mass production. At least the other Deltas haven’t lost it.

Rolling into his bunk, Sev closes his eyes, beginning the measured breathing sequence they were trained in to ensure they’d be able to get necessary rest even in challenging field scenarios.

There’s a soft thud.

Sev cracks one eye open.

Instead of leaving, Scorch has sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes on Sev.

“Now who’s being creepy,” he grumbles.

“Who? Me?” Scorch has never been good at innocent either, and it’s never stopped him trying.

Nothing ever stops him trying, so Sev doesn’t waste energy trying to get him to back off. Wau had trained the Deltas to never quit — pit against each other that meant standoffs it was better not to start. There was only one other solution.

“You might as well get up here, and comm Fixer to come in.” Knowing he was being watched by someone he couldn’t see, even one of his squad, set his teeth on edge. If they weren’t going to go away, they should be somewhere he could keep tabs on them right back.

With a victorious cry, Scorch scrambles to his feet and then bounces into the bunk, his words to Fixer obscured by the squeaking of the springs. Then he bounces again, lets out a little ‘heh!’ at the noise and Sev realises he’s made a mistake.

“Scrap that,” Sev grunts. “Get out.”

“No, no, I like this,” Scorch replies, flopping down beside him a gleeful wiggle. “It’s like we’re tubies again!”

Sev is weighing up the best spots on Concord Dawn to dispose of Scorch’s body after smothering him with the thin pillow when Fixer enters, having clearly stayed very close by as Sev had suspected.

Like Sev, he sheds just enough gear to avoid waking up incapcitatingly sore, before joining them on the far side of the bunk. There was a lot of space on the mattress for one, but with three of them piled in there he’s starting to feel like there’s something in Scorch’s reminiscence, though Sev’s mind springs not so much to Kamino (where Vau had made clear early in their training his disapproval of cadets acting in such an undisciplined manner) but to cold weather missions where they’d been accountable only to their objectives and Boss had put fulfilling their duties without being slowed down by extremities freezing off ahead of old lessons. Plastoid might clatter every time one of them stirs and the tangle of elbows, knees, and plate means it’s impossible to find a position he isn’t being poked by something, but between them they have sightlines in every direction but under the mattress and there’s a claw trap down there so Sev isn’t worried. It’s almost like a training mission, but with moderately fewer limbs heaped on him.

And, because Delta always were on the same comm channel for things that mattered, Fixer’s low voice from behind him asks, “Leaving Boss outside?”

Huh. He’d always been 38 to Fixer before. That’s... something.

Not something Sev is inclined to spend brain power on.

He’d assumed Boss was busy elsewhere, that they were trading shifts of playing mother nexu and with two on watch Boss was doing his own thing, but there’s a reason he was squad lead and if any of them could pull off trailing Sev without him noticing it’s Boss.

“You’re the ones with the constant commlinks—” he pointed out.

“You told him?”

“He was gonna realise.”

“—one of you get him in there.”

Boss wouldn’t save him, but at least if Sev plays his cards right and gets Boss to take his usual center point he’ll make a decent barrier against Scorch’s kicks so Sev can get a few hours of rest.


End file.
